His Dark Mark
by DracoxHermion3
Summary: One-shot; kinda dark, kinda fluffy, hella Dramione Draco is receiving his Dark Mark, and not just his mother is affected by it.


His Dark Mark

It was happening, and she couldn't help it. He was screaming in agony, and she couldn't say anything about it. She tried to stop him, to help him, but she couldn't move a muscle.

It was the day Draco Malfoy was getting his Dark Mark.

The one day, the one thing that both of them had nonchalantly anticipated. The event that both had to mentally prepare for beforehand. The day that had finally come.

Oh, how she wished it hadn't come.

But she was a Mudblood,

A disgrace to Wizarding Society, who was allowed no say in the matter. For everyone yielded to the wishes of an upper-handed Pureblood- in this case Draco's father.

Held down by his mother, who softly wept upon Hermione's shoulder, she proved to be utterly useless. The Lady of Malfoy Manor had pain reverberating through the cold, dense air. She wished that she could comfort her, she wished that she could alleviate a mother's pain. But alas, their pain was a matched commodity. She hurt as much as Narcissa Malfoy. And they both wallowed in their deepest sorrows together. Sorrow which was ruptured by yet another ear-bleeding scream.

It had been going on for three hours already.

They all lied. Saying it would quick and painless. They _all lied_. Even Lucius, even Bellatrix, even the Dark Lord himself, but to what surprise? Narcissa should have known that they would lie. They always lie. _Lie. Lie. Lie_. Narcissa Malfoy has heard many a lies in her time but none so sharp that they punctured her heart with the most antagonizing, most excruciating pain and discomfort. They lied to her about her _only son_ , her _only child_. They lied about the experience he would obtain, about the things he'd see. Lucius lied. Her _own_ husband. Perhaps he didn't want her to worry. Perhaps he'd thought that she wouldn't hear his pleas of release.

He was wrong.

Here she was, letting loose her composure and usually contained emotions. Here she was, with her pretty head of silvery blonde hair upon the shoulder of a girl who shared, as she thought, the same conflict and state of dejection. The girl, of course was none other than Hermione Granger- infamous Mudblood, best mate to Harry Potter, and brightest witch of her age.

The savior of her singleton.

Her tears stained the girl's jumper, soaking through the soft, wooly fabric. Her crystal, cerulean eyes turned red and raw. She reluctantly lifted her head from the girl's shoulder, vigorously wiping at her face from any escaped tears. Strands of hair sticking to her right cheek, plastered by the tears which dove from her eyes. She took a glance at Hermione, and the two women seemingly locked eye contact. Her eyes just as red, just as strained and worn. Her eyes looked older than they should have.

A fresh wave of tears erupted from Narcissa and she pulled Hermione to her, running her shaking hands up and down her back, through her hair, and finally to her cheeks. She cupped her face between her hands and kissed Hermione's forehead, her cheeks, her head. The Malfoy matriarch wiped Hermione's tears from her eyes as they silently caved along her face, contouring to the hollows of her cheekbones.

"Do you hear t-that?" Narcissa asked, voice painfully quiet and warm.

Hermione shook her head, "No."

"Exactly."

Hermione's eyebrows knit in confusion, followed by the widening of them as she came to understanding.

Narcissa nodded, taking Hermione's hands in her own, lifting them both from the bench upon which they sobbed for hours. "He's done. No more screaming…"

"No more screaming," Hermione confirmed, more for herself than for anyone else. She revolved to look at the door, behind which her love lie. Narcissa rubbed circles on the back of her hand and watched Hermione's face alter from uncertainty to despair, and then back to uncertainty. She raked over the young lady's features, taking in the red blotches from crying too long, the slight freckles that dotted her face, and her caramel eyes which were flecked with gold. She was beautiful. So beautiful that sh-

"Ah, there you are, Cissa. I have been looking all over for you."

"Lucius, I-I…he…Draco."

He grinned, showing off his perfectly straight teeth. "What about our failure of a son? He finally has something to ensure my pride in him, and" he paused, noticing the obvious signs of tears from both females ahead of him, "why are you crying? And who is that, Cissa? Behind you?"

Narcissa could feel Hermione tremble behind her, and she maneuvered to shield the girl further, placing her arm in front and holding the other in Hermione's. "She is a guest Lucius. No mor-"

"The Mudblood. She's _the filthy Mudblood_ our son is infatuated with, isn't she?" he seethed, "Isn't she!?"

"N-no, Lucius, she's just one of my…my…"

"Don't lie to me, wife."

"No, Lucius…I can assure you she is just a-"

"Please, . Don't lie on my behalf. Hermione eyed Lucius Malfoy wish invisible fear, and with mustered Gryffindor courage and bravery, stepped forward to fully reveal herself. Now open to the elder Malfoy, she was exquisitely vulnerable. Narcissa tightened her grip on Hermione's hand and said, "Hermione," Granger shook her head, "It'll be alright," she replied, "It'll be alright…" She took another reluctant step towards the domineering male, feigning indifference, sheltering fear.

"So you are Potter's Mudblood, aren't you? Ms. Granger, is it? I remember…I remember you from Flourish and Blotts, all those years ago. A fine specimen you have grown into…" he cooed with a calm, aristocratic drawl.

Hermione suppressed a shudder, "I see you haven't changed."

He laughed, something meant to sound warm and comforting turned hard and cold. "Witty little thing, aren't you? No surprise our Draco has been captured by your charm…" he smiled, a cruel, deceitful smile. Lucius elongated a step towards her, and Hermione put in all she could to keep her guard up and stand her ground.

He finally reached the shorter female, caressing her cheek with a lifelessly cold hand. She shuddered, yet her gaze remained head-to-head with his. "Such a…" he ran his thumb along her jaw, "beautiful thing." He ran the same thumb over lip, leaning into her, wand now in hand.

Narcissa stiffened,

Hermione trembled,

And Lucius _smirked,_ " _Crucio._ "

Hermione convulsed in the sudden burst of pain that the curse inflicted. Her veins boiled, her skin burned with the power matched with fiendfyre. She couldn't breathe, and when she attempted to it felt as if she was swallowing the Sword of Gryffindor over and over again as it cut through her esophagus. Her skull felt like it was splitting apart from itself, her vision splotched with clouds of black, tears silently spilled from her eyes. "P-p-please."

Lucius' smirk widened, "What was that, Mudblood?"

"Lucius, please! She is just a girl! Stop it! Stop it, stop!" Narcissa pleaded, a fresh round of tears spilling down her pale cheeks.

"She's a filthy, Mudblood whore. She deserves this."

Narcissa sobbed loudly to herself in the back, wrapping her arms around herself as to shield herself from the horror her husband was inflicting on an innocent child. "Please," she whispered, over and over again.

Hermione dropped to her knees, her body finally giving in, finally releasing its resistance. She screamed and shouted and grimaced all in the matter of seconds. The sound of her pain enough to draw blood from anyone's ears. The sound enough to kill someone. Narcissa continued crying, now practically wailing as she watched this beautiful, beautiful girl shrivel up and bleed, getting tortured to the brink of insanity.

Her back arched inwards and she fell back, feeling her flesh rip and blood pour out from underneath her skin.

It was only a few seconds later when she finally greeted darkness.

* * *

When he woke up, she was there. Right there, with a bloody book in her lap, her hair piled lazily on top of her head, her body hidden under a huge and ugly striped sweater. But even then he could see her gauntness, her paleness, and the marks that marred her skin. Marks that were clearly fresh and new. He turned his head to the side, grimacing at the slight pain that his mark was creating.

That's when she noticed that he had finally awoken. She closed her book and ran to his side.

"You-you're awake," she had said.

"Seems so."

She smiled slightly, but Draco saw how her halfhearted attempt didn't fully reach her eyes. And that's when _he_ noticed it- the finger-like marks that circled her neck and a cut that ran from her cheekbone to the corner of her mouth. "What did he-"

"Shh." She whispered, "I'm alright. How are you?"

"Bit sore."

"Here," she said, handing him a small bottle of a purply liquid, "Healing potion. It'll help the discomfort." When she saw he couldn't exactly help himself up, she rose to her feet and lifted his head for him, placing the potion to his lips and helping him swallow.

She smiled once again, a tired, defeated kinda smile, but a smile nonetheless. She always looked so beautiful when she smiled. "Better?"

"Loads."

She nodded and capped the bottle, setting it atop his side table.

She sat back down in the chair and looked out the window. "I was so scared for you."

"Why?"

"You could have died."

"It wouldn't have mattered to anyone."

"It would matter to," she stopped, turning to look back at him, tears now filling her eyes, "me." She awkwardly twiddled her thumbs in her lap, brisking away the tears from her cheeks with her sleeve. "And your mother."

"Hermione-"

"No, Draco. You don't understand. You mean more than you think you do. Stop berating yourself all the time, you git. _You idiot_." She hiccupped, wiping her tears again, this time, to her chagrin, her sleeve fell to reveal the crude markings of tortured flesh that Bellatrix had more than enough fun carving.

"What did they do to you?"

"Nothing that would have ever made me tell them about…I didn't tell them anything Draco…I-I promise, Draco, I swear I didn't-"

Draco fought against the tears that puddled in his eyes, and. reaching out to encase her hand, he shook his head, "You stubborn witch," he said, voice thick with tears.

She laughed slightly at that, "I couldn't let them hurt you more than they already have…" she whispered, gesturing to his freshly tattooed Mark, running the tips of her fingers over it. "I will never let them hurt you ever again as long as I am alive."

"Why?"

"Because I bloody well love you."

And funny she said that, for she stole the words right out of his mouth.

 **Hope you enjoyed, love DracoxHermion3**


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